Seasick
by Ernil i Pheriannath
Summary: Merlin is slave on a ship sailing the seas of Albion. He is shipwrecked and thinks there is no hope left for him. Until a pirate ship comes into view. Written as part of the reverse big bang challenge over on LJ. Complete for now, may revisit at a later date.


**A/N: Hello all. I have been extremely caught up with life recently and been unable to write a lot. I signed up for the Reverse big bang challenge and well, this is what i came up with. I really wish i had more time to do more but maybe some day. For now enjoy, and as always review. : ) Many special thanks to my beta April29roses.**

* * *

Merlin grabbed the ships pillar as another huge wave crashed into them. He was flung sideways and almost lost his grip. His head swam precariously; the drug he had been forced to drink still rife in his system. It made it hard to think, hard to breath, his whole world around him simply dulled into the background, but the storm was definitely not dulled.

The ship groaned as the sea buffets it violently from one side to the other, throwing its occupants from port to starboard in a matter of seconds. Merlin felt the seawater on his breaches and looked up to see the wooden walls, bowing and bending with every rush of water. The ship going down; he knows it. He struggled to grasp on to what little is left of the ship; the water comes crashing inward, obscuring his already blurred vision. Merlin took a huge desperate gulp of air as the water swallowed the last bit of his safety. The ship was pulling apart around him, splintering. The sound was deafening, even above the torrential rage of the angry sea. He closed his eyes, pushing his feet off the now shattering ships floor, feeling himself be sucked under, the blackness took him for a moment. He felt his manacles catch on the debris of the ship, pulling him down. He retched them violently and a shearing pain shot up his arm before feeling freedom.

* * *

Merlin let out a sudden gasp as he reached the surface, clawing wildly in the air, as if grasping it would actually send it to his screaming lungs. He coughed violently, expelling sea water. His throat protested and he struggled to suck in great gulps of the cool sea air. He flailed for a moment or two, feeling himself being pulled back under the surface until finally he let his body relax with the rocking sea. A piece of wooden deck floated towards him and he flung himself forward to reach the driftwood.  
His hand connected with the object and he let out a yelp as pain shot down his arm. He looked down at his wrist, it was swollen and angry. He remembered now, he'd trapped it as the ship went down.

"Great." The man let out a long sigh and then coughed violently again, wincing against the burning pain in his chest. They were miles away from land when they had gone down. Merlin was pretty sure there was little to no chance that anyone would be coming this way soon. Lost on the ocean, he was condemned to a long and painful death by starvation and having his eyes pecked out by gulls before he finally passed. He hoped his current state of starvation would mean it wouldn't be too long, or maybe a shark would stray this way north. The creatures were a rare sight in the Albion seas but he could always hope.

He collapsed forward, half onto the flotsam, the fatigue finally beginning to catch up. The wreckage was a little too small to hold even his slight frame above water, so he set to clinging to the mangled piece of sail twisted into the wood. His good hand gripped tightly and he let his head rest onto the timber as it bobbed uncomfortably up and down. It felt odd to be half submerged wearing his tattered clothing, his boots were soaked though and he felt weightless as his drifted with the sea's current. Who knew where the undertow would take him? He hoped he would never wash up on a shore, his mother would never forgive him if his body were retrieved? He'd gone missing months ago, taken by smugglers and traded as a slave. He could never live with the idea of his mother having to find him dead. The sea wasn't exactly warm but neither was it freezing. Never the less, he let out an involuntary shudder against the cool water.  
Finally after several minutes, he shuddered again and his eyes fluttered closed, as he gave into exhaustion. Who knows how long he would have to suffer out here? The constant surging of the water lulled him into an uncomfortable sleep and hours passed as he drifted across the ocean.

****************  
Merlin hadn't a clue how long he had been drifting, when finally he awoke to racking coughs shaking his scrawny body. He had clearly slipped from the wreckage, and his chin was holding just above the water line. He'd probably swallowed seawater, causing his sudden awakening. The sky was dim and the sun had disappeared behind the never ending horizon of blue. He let out an audible groan as his body protested against any sort of movement. His stomach rumbled with hunger and he struggled weakly to allow his torso to rest back against the wood above the water line.  
It wasn't long before darkness crept in around him, the pitch dark sent nothing but tendrils of fear into him. The silence was troubling and all that could be heard was the gentle lapping of water against the wreckage and the man's harsh breathing. Merlin's chest ached painfully with every breath, he'd been told many a time by his uncle Gaius that inhaling water was always a bad thing. 'Water can infect the lungs' he would tell him, waving a meaningful finger at him every time he'd found out the boy had been swimming in the river. It was something he would do regularly behind his uncle's back, and he was thankful he had, as he was now a strong and confident swimmer. Merlin swallowed back the grief that he would never see anyone ever again, let alone his family. On the slave ship there was at least some sort of vain hope he would be dropped ashore one day and would return home to his mother and uncle. Though it had been more likely the slavers would have worked him to an early grave, or thrown him overboard for back chatting.

As the night crept in closer, the man felt as if the darkness was pushing in at all sides, suffocating him. He couldn't even see his hands in front of him. He drifted into his thoughts as he stared aimlessly into the black. Thoughts of all the men lost on the slaver ship; memories of his family, his home and the fact that he wouldn't be seeing any of them again, brought him to tears as the night wore on.  
Suddenly something caught his eyes in the night, a pale white form flitted across his vision and was gone again. He could have sworn he had seen a person not 10 feet in front of him.  
"Hello?" His voice was harsh and it caught it throat, sending him into another round of coughing fit. He gripped tightly onto the jetsam of the ship as he struggled against the pain of gasping for breath for several minutes. He had only enough air to whimper, as the coughing finally began to die down. He let his head sink down onto the wreckage weakly, all but spent by his agony.

The flitting white shapes arrived again, and Merlin blinked several times, he was sure he was going mad. Deciding against using his voice he listened intently around him, the sea lapped gently but as he let himself tune into it he was convinced he could hear faint whispers as if on the wind. Yet there was no wind. His now dry hair didn't move an inch on his head as he half laid there rocking lightly.

"Merlin..."

He lifted his head, whipping it from one side to another.

"Leoht" He choked out, fighting back another cough rising. A small spark of light appeared in front of him but faded out.

"Leoht" he tried again. Nothing. Merlin rolled his eyes in annoyance. The attempt at doing magic only weakened him a little more, and he laid his head back to the timber. The grays and whites spun into his vision.

"Merlin..."

He closed his eyes as the patterns danced again, the whispered grew around him. His hair ruffled and gooseflesh rose on his arms. He tried desperately to block the noises out, furrowing his brows tightly in concentration.

"Merlin..."

Two tears leaked from the corner of each his closed eyes. He thought he was going mad, the sirens were calling him to his death. Why could he not have perished with the rest of the crew and passengers? The sounds grew, as if the wind took them up a notch. The wreckage bobbed wildly as the waves increased and the lights streamed into his eyes even with them closed. He gripped tightly to the sail, he was thrown from one wave peak and trough to another. For a minute he thought he might be thrown from the wreckage into the black sea.

"Please?" he croaked weakly. "Please stop."

And as if on command the sounds died away, the light disappeared and the sea calmed to nothing. Merlin cracked his eyes open apprehensively but there was nothing. The shapes had all but gone and he was met by nothing but black again. Letting his muscles relax a little he let his lids drift closed again. He fell into an uneasy sleep.

**********  
When he woke for the second time, he squinted against the blinding sun which was on its rise in the sky. He let out a short groan and rolled over, letting himself slip into the cool waters again. Every muscle ached when he tried to straighten them out and his wrist began to throb, he looked down to find an array of purples blooming from his pale flesh around the area. Every breath was now laborious and each movement of his chest caused an agonizing shot of pain. Why wouldn't a shark just take him already? It would be quicker than this hopeless drifting.  
Finally, tuning back over again, he returned to his original position. Merlin looked across the sea towards the horizon. It must have been around mid morning by the position of the sun, yet he had no idea the direction he had drifted during the night. He shuddered at the thought of another night in the darkness. Scanning further across the sea he squinted, a small dot lined the blue just to his right, he could have sworn it was a ship.

Merlin stared, his eyes not leaving the small black speck. For a while he thought he really was going mad, the blemish on the waves nothing more than a delusion. But finally, after what seemed like hours of hoping, it grew in size, to the point that both the main boat and the sails could be made out. He smiled to himself, what luck would have a ship sailing right by him?

As the boat grew closer, Merlin could make out more of its structure. A great dragon was carved into his bow, its wings stretching upward impressively. Its dark wood bobbed gracefully up and down through the gentle waves. Several tattered banners blew haphazardly in the breeze, they were red, with a painted golden dragon crested in the centre. Merlin's mind took him back to the stories he had heard on the slave ship. Whispers of a band of renegade pirates sailing the nearby seas, bearing the mark of the dragon, ruthlessly taking out any ship in its line of sight. Merlin gulped, he doubted highly that any pirates would even consider picking him up, they were more likely to kill him were he was.

The tall captain paced the ship up and down. His golden hair bouncing across his brow with each stride. He was annoyed and none of the crew said a word. The crew knew it would be on their heads if they did.

"Man ahoy!" One man finally broke the defening silence after that seemed to have lasted forever. The captain's blue eyes followed the pointing arm out to the haze of the ocean. A tiny trail of flotsam and jetsom was scattered out before them, but almost hidden among the driftwood. a small body clung to a flimsy shattered wooden raft.

"Should we pull him in?" The dark skinned crew member eyed his captain carefully.  
"If you must" He waved his arm and walked away, paying little heed to the crew members now rallying to throw a rope to the man.

******  
Merlin caught the thick rope as it collided with the water in front of him. He eased himself from the wreckage but his body immediately plummeted into the ocean. He struggled weakly but his muscles had no strength left and he could feel his body drifting further downward. He was just beginning to realize that he was being left to sink when the rope pulled taught and his body erupted through the surf and back into the fresh air. He gasped, air catching his dessicated throat. He coughed and sucked in air uselessly, taking water with it. All he could do now was hang to the lifeline in the hope that they had the strength to pull his body though the waters. He struggled against the tyrant of water which was now rushing past his hands and around his shoulders. It was only a matter of moments before he felt his body connect with the side of the ship.

"Hold tight!" He heard one of the men shout to him. His body was hoisted upward with ease, the rope pinched at the skin on his hands and wrists. The swollen and bruised joint protested against the strain. He was soon up near the deck and a large hand grasped his sodden tunic hauling him over the side and onto the wooden floor.

Merlin collided with the deck hard, the world titled violently and darkness pricked at the edge of his vision threatening the abyss. He coughed uncontrollably. His body couldn't take much more of this, the last remains of his strength were waning fast. He spluttered more sea water. Finally he caught a shaky breath.

"Looks like he's half dead already, Captain"  
Merlin could hear the hushed voices of the small crew around him. He squinted against the figures before him but his vision was failing miserably and all that could be see were darkened fuzzy shapes.  
One of the men knelt down to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Are you ok? What happened to you?"

Merlin tried to croak in response but his voice box and throat convulsed in protest once again. This time it was simply too much. After a paroxysm of coughing his body slumped bonelessly to the floor and he slipped into a deep unconsciousness.  
"See to it that he receives treatment for his ailments, Lancelot." Arthur turned on his heel and paced up the ship without looking back, his heavy boots echoing darkly in the silence among the crew.

Lancelot only nodded in response, but he scooped the unconscious Merlin up and onto his shoulder. He almost stopped in his tracks to find the man's lithe frame weighed little to nothing, but strode on and into the main quarters of the ship, down a narrow ladder which he managed with ease considering the size of the patient he was carrying.

He made it into a small cabin, empty save one large cot and a small cupboard. It has been saved for the use of treating injuries during their many outings. Lancelot hated the place. It was small, stuffy and did nothing to help a man in need of healing except perhaps elicit cabin fever quite literally. The tall man laid his patient down onto the bed carefully, noting how flimsy and limp the young man's body actually looked. He set to work quickly as Merlin's body began to shudder, whether from cold or just plain shock, Lancelot wasn't exactly sure. He stripped the man's tunic and tattered neckerchief and was frozen once again at the revelation. The bare torso before him was nothing more than a criss cross of patterned whip marks, bruises and scars. Not a single inch of flesh was spared a blemish. He shook his head in pity and surprise; this new stowaway was becoming more mysterious as time went on. As he surveyed the strained uneven rise and fall of the young man's chest, the noted how breaths caught in his throat painfully, sounding wet and labored. His eyes were squeezed shut tightly, against the strain of his effort but he did not regain consciousness.

Merlin felt himself drifting again. For several long minutes he thought he was back in the ocean. The gentle rocking sent his head spinning and every draw of breath he felt fire burning in his throat.

"Can you hear me?" A voice faded into his consciousness. Cracking his eyes open he was met with the sight of two very worried looking eyes. The young warlock squinted against the dim lighting of the cabin.

"Wha..."  
"Don't talk." the pirate before him held a hand out in a bid to silence the patient on the bed. Merlin's eyes narrowed, trying desperately to focus on him. "I'm Lancelot" the man finally said.

"Merlin" he ground out in a reply, the air catching his throat and ripping into another round of hacking coughing.

"What did I say about talking," the man tutted, and then he gently placed a damp cloth on his head. Merlin relished the cool feeling above his raging fever. "You've swallowed too much water out there" Lancelot gestured to the side as if to the sea itself. "Got the sweating sickness. Your lucky the captain pulled you up. Believe it or not Arthur isn't completely heartless."

"Ar..thur" Merlin's voice was almost a whisper now.

"Yes, the Pendragon." Lancelot replenished the cloth and replaced it back on the young mans head again.

Merlin racked his brains for a moment. He struggled against the haze of pain and dizziness, but he was certain he had definitely heard that name before. Perhaps his master had threatened him with it, or was it one of the crew who had whispered the name. Whatever it was Merlin knew that the name sent tendrils of fear through anyone who spoke it.

"He's quite the famous pirate, don't you know" Lancelot smiled, seeing the confusion across the patient's face. "Feared by all across Albion for being the most formidable and ruthless man upon the high seas" He laughed then. "Make sure you thank him for this!"

Merlin smiled sadly. Not exactly what he was wanting to hear. Out the hands of one barbarian and into the hands of another. He let his eyes slip closed, grinding his teeth against the fire burning in his chest, somehow the darkness consumed him all too quickly again.

He didn't know what time it was, when he felt consciousness tugging at him once again. Cracking his eyes slowly open he felt his lungs inflate a little easier perhaps. The dim lighting in the room seemed even darker than before. Night then, he guessed. Had he really spent the whole day sleeping? He craned his neck from one direction to another, the tiny room was empty, save the small lantern set on a small cupboard along with the bowl of water and a small collection of clothes and vials. Lancelot must have stepped out he thought, or maybe retired to his own bed. Who could blame him?

He blinked wearily for a while, letting his mind sway with the rocking motion of the boat. The ship seemed silent, save for the sound of Merlin's own wet breaths. The smell of sea salt from the ocean lingered in the air, and for once Merlin savored the scent. He enjoyed the quiet for a while, until finally his ears picked up the faint sounds of whispers on the air.

"Merlin..."


End file.
